When winter came i woke to you painted in grey, a common phrase but you had changed, all water color cut with age. and when i spoke i saw contention form, infest your thoughts, shape from your hopes, hapless and trite, and drug through sober blue. you had me here two years ago. you lost me there somewhere off college avenue wandering the streets of august 1998. just set me free, it's present you or past tense me who needs an answer, is finding patterns, hearing voices not the beat. Signals drifting signaled endings, lost in meanings of circles breaking, circuits ending. When summer came i barely wrote and couldn't sleep, it sounds worn out but something about the hazy, cold settles me down. i felt it there two days ago, i watched it fall, loose threads and arrowed hands, hospital beds with alter boys all waiting for the calmness of their empty rooms and jarred up leaves. the oakland trees are reaching out like her hands in your hair, on your throat. And maybe it doesn't mean a thing, maybe we're better off as luck and no one watches over us or hears our prayers and lonely thoughts... Signals drifting signaled endings, lost in meanings of circles breaking, circuits ending. I tried to find the meaning but no had a reason, it's the worst of what i am. just let me know if you've had enough before we fall apart and come undone.